The Strange Case of the American Bicyclists
by Enchantaskip
Summary: Watson is reunited with Holmes and immediately summoned to investigate a brutal attack in a remote Scottish glen


The Strange Case of the American Bicyclists

On a fine spring evening early in the new century I found myself near Baker Street and took the opportunity to drop in on my old friend.

I had been there twice or three times in the previous two months but had not found Holmes there on either occasion, and had concluded that he was away upon some case of great importance. Now, to my delight, he was in his old corner amidst a fug of tobacco smoke, wearing his old dressing gown, and, to my considerable mystification, a tweed hat with peaks front and rear and large earflaps.

He greeted me warmly and instructed Mrs Hudson to bring tea and scones.

"Well, Watson, it has been a long time since we last met. Other than that you have recently lost a patient and that are becoming somewhat attracted to the left in politics I can see that your life is largely unchanged."

Seeing my mystified appearance he sighed, "I note that there is a carnation in your buttonhole, of the type given by Foggary's the florists to favoured customers. As Foggarty is the florist you most often use to send wreaths to the relicts of your deceased patients I can only deduce that you have lost one."

For a moment I thought he was about to say "another patient" but the moment passed.

"As for your attraction to the left in politics, you informed me sometime ago that you were acquainted with the Webbs and were contemplating joining their Fabian Society. When I see that you can now close, not two or three but five of the seven buttons in your waistcoat, it is obvious that you have been taking physical exercise, probably, from the condition of your trouser cuffs, in the form of travelling frequently by bicycle. As you have never been attracted to exercise for its own sake, this can only mean that you find that the incessant right-wing prattle of the London cabbie is no longer bearable."

I had at last learned that to comment on the simplicity of his reasoning would lead to days of sulking, so I merely nodded respectfully.At his next words my face must have darkened. "Tell me Watson, how is young Sherlock?"

I had never been comfortable with my small son. The fact that his mother, my dear wife, had died in bringing him into the world, though through no fault of his, was a significant factor in this discomfort. I also, to be honest, found his hawk-like nose and penetrating gaze very disconcerting in an infant.

"He is living with his aunt, growing stronger by the day, already fluent in Greek and German and often winning chess competitions. I have every faith that he will thrive when he goes away to school on his fourth birthday. To see him crawl around the floor examining cigar butts with his little magnifying glass would do your heart good."

I watched Holmes, aware of a certain unease in his attitude. It suddenly struck me that the man was embarrassed by something.

"I have not seen you around for some time, Holmes. Perhaps you have been working on a case?"

"Indeed and I have, Watson. Unfortunately at the specific request of my principal I have been unable to call upon your valuable services, but now that the crisis is past I can be permitted to tell you the tale. It must not be made public without my express permission, however."

I took out my notebook and sighed. There were so many cases, not least among them the "Case of the Queen's Curious Rash, " and "The Mystery of the Original Gladstone Bag" which must forever remain cloaked in secrecy.

"It is an unfortunate event indeed when the Foreign Secretary loses the confidence of his Prime Minister, but that is exactly what has happened. For the last three months Mr. Balfour has been resorting for advice on foreign policy , neither to his cabinet colleagues or to his excellent diplomatic service, but to a succession of gypsy fortune tellers."

He stood up, let his dressing gown fall and swept the strange hat from his head.

I gasped. Beneath the gown was a rumpled silk tasselled dress of the kind favoured by fairground mystics. Underneath the cap had been hidden a long female wig of red hair, his wrists were hung with bracelets of charms and gold coins, and his ears decorated with large gold hoops. To any but the keenest eye my friend was the perfect representation of the common palm-reader.

"I have been living in the role "Mystic Meg" for these past two months. During that time, I can say with some pride, I have twice dissuaded our premier from declaring war in France, not to mention laying the foundations for lasting peace in the Balkans, the Middle East, Ireland and the Falklands. This unlikely headgear, though inappropriate for the well dressed gentleman in London, is admirably suited to the concealment of unusual jewellery. Fortunately, with the recent cabinet reshuffle we have a Foreign Secretary who once again enjoys the ear of his Prime Minister and I can now rest from my labours."

My eyes narrowed.

Holmes had always been a master of disguise, but I had noticed in recent times a discomfiting trend towards the adoption of feminine disguises. I made a mental note then and there that I must once more look into the writings of the new Austrian school of psychiatry.

Suddenly, there was a sound of expostulation from below, a clatter of booted feet on the stairs, and a young man burst in the door, pursued by Mrs. Hudson.

"I am sorry, Mr. Holmes, but he rushed in past me before I could stop him."

"Mr Holmes?"

The young man, from his well tailored suit a person of some means and status, eyed the fortune teller with a curious eye.

"Yes, my profession obliges me to adopt disguises from time to time. Mrs Hudson, please fetch a fresh pot of tea while the Lieutenant informs me of the grave events in Scotland which clearly require an urgent response."

The young man gasped with admiration. "Why, sir, you are as brilliant as they say. I am Lieutenant Clay of Her Majesty's Third Scottish Borderers and have just come down this morning by the express, as you say."

Homes shrugged a taffeta-clad shoulder. "A simple set of inferences. The knot in your tie suggests one of the lesser Scottish regiments. The copy of "The Scotsman" in your pocket has the crossword only half-completed. This suggests that it is today's edition, since even the most dim-witted junior officer should be able to complete it in two days. As it is unobtainable in London on the day if it's publication, it leads one to conclude that you have come down by the express."

"Wonderful, Mr. Holmes."

"Pray enlighten me on the situation as I change. I shall leave the bedroom door open."

To the swish of silken undergarments being removed and the jangle of jewellery being put away the young man began his tale.

"You will be familiar with the Earl of Glencampbell and his aeronautical experiments?"

I shook my head but Holmes's voice boomed out from the bedroom. "I heard him reading a paper at the Institute some months ago. He has been conducting research on gliding machines these thirty years in his estates in a remote glen in Scotland."

"Indeed. The army sent me to his estate to view his latest machine, a powered version that might be of considerable value for artillery support, which was to be tested today. I arrived yesterday and was shown around his workshops with the other guests."

"Who were?"

" An elderly Captain from the navy with an artificial leg, the Honourable Alasdair, eldest son of the Earl, two young American bicycle manufacturers called Kennedy and Hamilton, and a neighbouring landowner called McCallan, a respectable gentleman of advanced years. We were extremely impressed by the expense lavished upon the machine and workshops. In the evening we changed and dined together. After the ladies left we discussed aviation around the port. It was at this point that an argument developed.

The young Americans questioned the stability of the machine and the Earl became extremely angry. There was a long heated argument and eventually the Earl stormed off to bed. We all retired soon afterwards in a somewhat embarrassed state. About midnight we heard a shot and screams and ran to the Earl's room where we discovered that he had been shot and injured. The bullet struck in the region of his heart but the shock was absorbed by the substantial wad of currency every Scotsman keeps there, leaving him shocked and bruised but fundamentally uninjured. He claimed that two men in false beards had burst into his room, fired a single shot at him and ran away, and he laid the blame clearly at the two young Americans.

They denied all knowledge and no weapon was to be found, but against his word as a leading member of the aristocracy they were helpless. The local police inspector, Collins, seemed convinced of their guilt and they have been carried off to the local prison. I have doubts as to their guilt and thought that I should summon you at once."

"You did well. We must leave at once."

Holmes emerged with his bag and garbed in more conventional dress than before, and led us to the street where we secured transport to the station.

On the train, Holmes questioned the boy closely.

The two Americans were young and of a respectable background, the officer believed. They had refused alcohol with their meal or afterwards on religious grounds, to the astonishment of their host, but seemed both to be well informed and enthusiastic amateurs of aviation science. In arguing with the aristocrat they had been deferential but uncompromising.

"They had requested that the Earl delay the flight until certain matters of stability had been addressed. In their view a flying machine needs not one rudder, but three, one for left to right motion, one for up and down, and a third to roll the machine from side to side. The Earl argued for just one, arguing that increased or decreased engine power can make the machine climb or descend, and that the in-built stability precludes rolling around it's own axis. The naval captain agreed with the Earl, and the rest of us remained silent as befitted our lack of knowledge on the issue."

"Who was present during the argument?"

"Myself, the Earl, McCallan, the Americans, and the naval officer."

"No-one else?"  
"No. Well, servants came and went and the butler, Maconachie, was there for the full time to serve the port. He has been with the family all his life, and I believe, was the son of his father's coachman and played with the Earl as a child."

"How did the Inspector account for there being no revolver discovered after the attack?"

"It is his that view that every American carries a revolver."

Holmes nodded ruefully at the irrefutable truth of this statement. The young man continued.

"He reasoned they could have thrown it into the loch by the house before the police arrived."

"What motive did the Inspector provide?"  
"Apart from the bad blood engendered by the argument, he believes that the two are excessively well informed about aviation for mere bicycle manufacturers, and that they must therefore have plans to build their own machine. The Earl would be seen as a competitor to be eliminated with the brisk ruthlessness invariable in United States business circles."

After a long and tiring journey we arrived in the small town in Scotland and went straight to the local police station. A brief conversation with Collins proved fruitless, but he did allow us access to the two prisoners, two quietly spoken respectable young men who denied any connection to the crime.

To my astonishment Holmes spent only moments discussing the crime before launching into a long and very technical discussion of the science of aeronautics.

Finally we left them and made our way to the great house, a monstrous dark stone edifice that brooded over a great chasm between the dark wet hills. A vast empty space before the house held several enormous tents that no doubt protected the flying machine and the equipment needed to service it from the severe Scottish climate.

We were shown to the Earl, a large choleric man in his fifties who was brooding over a glass of whisky in his chilly study, the walls lined with technical drawings and models of bizarre flying machines, his arm supported by a sling. He listened in silence as my friend introduced himself.

"Well Holmes, I appreciate your coming up, but I think that the guilt of the pair is clear. Will ye be having a wee dram?"

To my surprise Holmes, who prefers to keep his mind clear during investigations, agreed, and soon a stocky kilted individual, walking with a decided limp, answered the bell.

"Maconachie, three stiff malts for my guests."

He returned in moments and we sampled the dark fiery warming spirit with appreciation.

The Earl confided, "Maconachie is not only the best butler in Scotland, he is also the only man I trust to navigate my various gliding machines. I will bet that he is looking forward greatly to be in control of the first powered machine I have invented, aye, Maconachie?"

"Indeed Sir, it will be a great privilege. Will that be all, Sir?"

"Well yes, leave the bottle. And you can take tomorrow off, as I will be delaying the trial of the machine until this bad business is resolved."

I noticed Holmes eyes following the aged retainer as he left, "I see Maconachie has suffered some injury to his leg?"

The Earl chuckled, "Bless you, he has broken more bones than he could count. Flying in my experimental machines is not for the faint hearted."

Holmes spent the remainder of the afternoon in examining the Earl's bedroom and in speaking to each of the guests in turn. Finally he returned to speak to the Earl, and afterwards spent some hours thoughtfully smoking his pipe in the summerhouse before we dined.

We ate in some style in the great hall, and afterwards resorted to a quiet parlour for port and cigars.

Conversation was muted, and it was not long before people began looking at their watches and yawning.

"Best all turn in then," said the Earl, putting down his mug of port, "We shall have an early start. By the way, Maconachie, would it be possible for you to defer your day off? I have decided to conduct our flight trials tomorrow after all."

There was a faint gasp from the direction of the sideboard, but the retainer collected himself and stoutly replied, "Very good sir."

"Bring up my nightcap then and I will see you all in the morning."

Holmes and I were the last to file out of the room, and I turned towards the staircase, only to stop in amazement as Holmes grabbed my shoulder. I turned to see him bending by the keyhole of the door, his finger to his lips.

Slowly he drew the great oaken portal open, revealing the sight of the old servant pouring some liquid from a vial into a large glass of whiskey.

"Seize him Watson."

As we darted towards him the servant flung the vial into the fireplace and attempted to drew a revolver from his pocket but we were on him before he could take aim. In a moment we had the darbies on him and Holmes had called the astonished Earl and his guests back from their rooms.

"We have the culprit, your Grace, and I believe the bullets in this revolver will match that in your,, the one used in the assault."

"Maconachie? It cannot be Maconachie. He has served my family, man and boy, this forty years. I cannot believe it. Why should he attack me? Who would have been his confederate?. I was attacked by two bearded men."

Holmes looked around him keenly.

"I got my first inkling as to the solution of the mystery when we dined today. Any time you mentioned the flying machine the glasses in his hands clinked together as if his hands were shaking. The poor man is terrified of your flying machines, not least because of the numerous injuries he has suffered in your service. He could no longer bear the thought of risking his life, and he decided to frighten you into abandoning the project, only to have the revolver go off by accident."

"But there were two bearded men in my room."

Holmes brandished a large hairy object. "We found this hidden in his room. No true Scottish aristocrat would go to his bed thirsty, and from the accounts given by your guests I have calculated that you drank one and a half decanters of port, three bottles of claret and several large whiskies before bed. It is no wonder that you were seeing two of everything."

The earl seemed not to have heard him.

"And now he was trying to poison me. The thankless wretch."  
"Doctor Watson has analyzed the substance as a harmless sleeping draught. He planned to flee while you slept. We found a packed suitcase in his room."

"Humph. I will still throw the book at the wretch and see that he spends years in prison. After trusting him for all these years."

"We shall have to cancel the flight tomorrow." Alasdair commented.

"Nonsense, I will fly the machine myself. I do not need servants to do my work."

It was in vain that we endeavoured to dissuade him from his hazardous course.

"And we can keep that wretch here until after the flight to show him he need not have been such a coward. The machine is perfectly safe."

It was an anxious group that gathered on the landing area the following morning, watching the great device being prepared. The guests had folding chairs by the landing strip, while two sturdy gamekeepers guarded Maconachie to our rear.

A messenger had earlier been dispatched to the prison to set the two Americans at liberty, and indeed a trap could be seen approaching at speed as the Earl prepared for his first flight.

He started the two great engines and the machine trundled ponderously towards the end of the field and turned to face into the wind.

The trap drew up just as he set the engines howling at full power and the two passengers alighted and ran towards the machine, waving furiously in an attempt to persuade the Earl to desist from his mad plan, but he ignored them and the machine ran swiftly the length of the field before climbing slowly into the sky.

It was a magnificent sight, and we stood with the mechanics and watched in admiration for a moment, but then we all stared with growing horror as the machine climbed up and up at an ever increasing angle before rolling over and spiralling for a thousand feet to strike the ground with appalling force.

The machine and it's occupant were dashed into a thousand fragments, and the ensuing fire left nothing but charred objects scattered over a wide area.

We gathered around his heir and consoled him as best we could, and in truth he appeared to bear the loss bravely.

"He died as he would have wished, advancing the cause of flight."

The senior mechanic came up and touched his cap, "Will you be wanting us to begin work on a new machine. It will cost a mort of money to build a second one, d'ye ken?."  
The youth flinched somewhat at the mention of money. Perhaps his aristocratic blood was offended at crude commercial matters at such a time, or perhaps it was a painful reminder that a substantial portion of his inheritance had been squandered on his father's experiments. A true conflict between his aristocratic and his Scottish blood, perhaps.

He shook his head sadly, "I think not. That is work for a younger generation and it would serve as a constant reminder of my tragic loss."

He turned to the Americans. "Please take what you wish from his drawings and components for your own researches. We will charge you only a nominal sum for them."

He called Maconachie over, and had Holmes remove the handcuffs, "There is no need to pursue this unfortunate business any further. This incident shows how right you were to be uneasy about the perils of conducting a flying machine. You shall return to your duties in the house and we will say no more about it."

Later he rewarded Holmes to the utmost limits of Caledonian generosity and we set out, pockets jingling, in the afternoon in company with the Americans for our train.

They were taking a different one to ourselves, and we shook hands on the platform.

"We have to thank you for saving us from British justice, Mr. Holmes. Gee, we could have expected better treatment in Alabama."

"Please Wilbur, you exaggerate. You were merely locked up for a night, not lynched or given twenty years on a chain gang."

Startled, the two young men exchanged glances. "You recognised Orville and myself? We were asked to use assumed names by the Army."

"From the beginning. I make a careful study of all scientific developments, and your names are even now not unknown.. I have no doubt they will soon be recognised in every house on the planet. Were the army afraid of foreign powers discovering that you were in negotiation with them?"

"Well, no sir, it was the Royal Navy they were most anxious about."

Holmes chuckled and we entered our carriage and waved our farewells.

Some months later Holmes pointed with some complacency to their photographs in the press under screaming headlines.

"I knew there was good in those two. When they have perfected this new aeroplane we can look forward to a world where war will be impossible, you mark my words, Watson."


End file.
